


Wonderwall

by its_in_the_water



Category: Dragon Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 18:30:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_in_the_water/pseuds/its_in_the_water
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble for Aveline and the beauty of a strong shield wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wonderwall

**Author's Note:**

> This image just gives me the shivers.

It was a hurlock, a crude _hurlock_ of all creatures, that brought Donnic down. The guardsman, one of Aveline's strongest, like an extension of her arm, took a hit on his shield from an alpha. He braced himself, but his boot heel slid on something. It was a piece of flesh, some mud, a flaming stick, and Donnic stumbled and the stupid hurlock took its opportunity, striking the guardsman on the side of his head. The hurlock's axe screamed against Donnic's metal helmet with enough force to knock it off and daze the man. He slumped to his knees, the weight of his shield dragging him forward, his sword slicing into the bloody earth as he tried to prop himself up.

The hurlock, laughing and bestial, reared back to strike again.

"No! You will not have him, too!" Aveline's mace struck the hurlock's arm at the elbow, crushing the joint. The darkspawn staggered, turned, glared, and died with its jagged teeth smashed in. "Donnic!" the Guard Captain cried. "On your feet!" She lifted her shield to block another attack from the alpha. There were already two more darkspawn, a genlock and hurlock, crowding in to replace the one she'd dispatched.

"Yes, ser," Donnic uttered. He shook his head and tried to push himself up, stumbled over the edge of his own shield, fell back to one knee. His dark hair was drenched in sweat, the bruise already swelling at his temple was the only colour in his ghastly pale face. His eyes didn't open all the way when he looked up.

The darkspawn sensed his weakness like hounds on a scent, pressing in from all sides. Aveline shoved three away and sidled closer to the fallen guardsman.

"Here!" she taunted, swinging her mace and knocking her own shield to get their attention. "Come at me, you filthy cowards! Vermin!"

It worked. Nearly. Four of the five swarmed her. She took their hits like the cliffs of Rivain taking the fury of a roiling storm off the sea; implacable, immovable.

One of the five, the alpha, was not so easily distracted. He saw Donnic down and he went for the kill.

"No!" Aveline sobbed. She abandoned her stability. She ran, strong legs churning in the mud, to the fallen man's side and got in the way of the alpha's jagged sword. It squealed off the green aurum. The alpha roared its rage at denial of a kill.

Success was fleeting. The other four leapt upon the fallen man and his desperate defender. Aveline could have fought them, could have saved herself, but not without sacrificing the man she loved. Again.

Rusted, stained weapons rose above them. Aveline stared hard at her impending doom, refusing to look away, refusing to regret standing by Donnic in death as she had in life.

Another shield swung overhead, casting aside two of the spawn. It was swiftly followed by a long sword that removed at least one foul claw. Aveline, astonished, looked back.

The blond king of Ferelden, with a grunt, pushed away the spawn closing in on Donnic's other side. He gleamed, his armour golden even in the thick smoke and under a layer of blood splatter.

Aveline's astonishment quickly gave way to the returning rush of duty and hope. She surged up, knocked back the alpha, and brought her mace down on its head.

The last two spawn tried to come in at her flank, but they, too, were overcome by a shield bearing the crimson tower of Redcliffe. The man wielding it also hefted a mace. Grimacing through a tidy beard, the brunet pressed the attack on the snarling genlocks.

Step-by-step, Aveline, the king, and the other man dropped their shoulders and turned back the tide of spawn. Her heart thrilled at the feeling of standing _with_ them, of being part of a wall. They groaned in unison, arms unwavering, shields strong.

Finally, the spawn flowed away, off to find easier prey in the chaos of battle.

"Here," said the brunet, offering a potion to Aveline and an injury kit to Donnic.

"My thanks," she panted.

"We've got them on the run," the king cheered. "Teagan, call a charge. Now, before they regroup."

"A charge?" Aveline asked, disbelieving. "But Kirkwall is fleeing. The city has fallen!"

"No," Alistair replied. "Not this time." He stretched his neck, lifted his shield higher, and nodded at the distant ants of Kirkwall's civilians. "Protect your people. We will protect you."

Aveline wasn't sure how to respond. She was exhausted, though, and the injury kit only did so much for the crack in Donnic's skull. So she nodded and got her husband to his feet.

Teagan took a horn from his belt and blew a long, high note. It cut through the din and cry of battle. A roar from human voices and distant horns and drums responded.

Fereldens, waves of them, led by howling dogs and reinforced by Dalish archers, streamed toward their king.

"We failed you once," the king said grimly. "We will not do so again."


End file.
